


Block B Drabbles

by cassiem



Category: Block B
Genre: Drabbles, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-03-29 17:07:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 34
Words: 9,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3904153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassiem/pseuds/cassiem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of little, short ficlet/drabble things I've written.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. jaebomb; "Come home with me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 1-13 prompts taken from [here](http://pyo-jihooon.tumblr.com/post/118493921963/send-me-two-or-more-characters-and-a-number-and)
> 
> Chapter 13-22 prompts taken from [here](http://pyo-jihooon.tumblr.com/post/120445073758/send-me-a-pairing-and-a-number-and-ill-write-you)
> 
> Chapter 22 - onward prompts taken from [here](http://pyo-jihooon.tumblr.com/post/128546812748/send-me-a-number-and-a-characterpairing-for-a)
> 
> 15/05/16: yeah looking back a lot of these early ones are crap so i'm sorry in advance rofl

“Come home with me.” Minhyuk states. It’s not a question, it’s a _demand_ , and Jaehyo doesn’t really know how to react.

“Hyung? What do you mean?” Maybe if he can play this off like he’s innocent, like he doesn’t know what Minhyuk is talking about, he can get out of this unscathed.

Minhyuk takes a step closer, his hand grazing Jaehyo’s, their chests almost touching. “I’ve seen the way you look at me while I dance. Come home with me.”

All his instincts are telling him to run, go back to the dorm where he is safe and no one can hurt him – except maybe Kyung – but for once Jaehyo is sick of letting his instincts control him, suppress him, so he pulls the older man in for a crushing kiss, never mind that they’re out the side of their dorm, surrounded by the numerous cigarette butts; never mind that some sasaeng could be waiting around the corner, never mind all that because Minhyuk feels so _different_ to the girls he’s kissed and, as their tongues touch, Jaehyo decides he cannot get enough.


	2. taepyo; “You know, it’s okay to cry.”

“You know, it’s okay to cry.”

Jihoon’s voice, in its deep timbre, is trying to be as soothing as possible, but Taeil is on the edge of losing his mind, teetering off into the darkness below, and that just sends him one step further closer to the edge.

They’re in the dorm, in Jihoon’s (incredibly messy) room, and they’re standing there shouting at each other, the divide between them bigger than the Grand Canyon.

“No, it’s not, Jihoon. You know why? Because I have a responsibility as the eldest, I have to be strong. You wouldn’t know.” Taeil snarls, bitterly. It’s so easy for Jihoon to just say “it’s okay to cry”, like it _is_.

Jihoon frowns and clenches his fists. “Hyung, that’s _Jiho’s_ job. He’s the leader, not you.”

Taeil sighs and rubs his eyes. He loves Jihoon, he knows he does, but damn if the youngest isn’t blinded by naivety sometimes. “It’s different. It’s an age thing.”

He feels Jihoon’s hand on his chin, tilting his head up, and as much as he _hates_ being reminded of his height it’s so nice just to look up at Jihoon, who is staring back at him with a slight smile. “Hyung. It’s okay.”

Biting his lip to keep from sobbing outright, he lets out a little whimper as Jihoon folds him against his chest. It might not be okay to cry, but maybe, for a little while, he can just pretend that it is.


	3. upyo; “Are you drunk?”

“Hyung, are you drunk?” Jihoon asks, uncertainly.

It’s very unlike Yukwon to be so loud and it’s _certainly_ unlike Yukwon to burst into his room late at night.

“No, Jihoonniiiee, I’m not.” Yukwon slurs, but the words are negated by the fact that he still has a beer in his hand, and is using the frame of the doorway to help him stay upright.

Jihoon slides off the bed and approaches the other man gingerly, wary of unexpected vomiting - it’s happened to him too many times. “Hyung, why didn’t you go back to Sunhye’s place?”

Yukwon shoulders past him and stands in the middle of his tiny cupboard bedroom, looking around him in awe. “We’re having a fight. S’no big deal. Hyung, why don’t you put some posters up?”

Jihoon’s fingers start twitching, as they always do when he’s anxious. He doesn’t want to have to deal with drunk Yukwon, but he doesn’t know where the others are, and he doesn’t want to leave the older man in his bedroom alone while he goes to find out.

“Posters?” He asks, uncertainly.

“Like. Of f(x). And 2NE1. You have a crush on them, right?” Yukwon turns, a menacing glint in his eye. Maybe it’s just the light, though, because Jihoon blinks and it’s gone.

He swallows. He doesn’t like being reminded of Jinri - that was in the _past_ , god damn it, why can’t people let it go – and he certainly doesn’t like to be reminded of his crush on Dara.

“Hyung, let’s get you into bed.” He murmurs, striding forward to guide Yukwon out of the room, when the older man turns and kisses him.

He’s so shocked he can’t do anything, can’t even blink, as he feels Yukwon’s hands slide around his back. It’s quick and chaste, and when Yukwon pulls away, he feels his beer-y breath wash over him as he talks.

“You have Dara, I’ve got you.” He whispers, and then is gone.


	4. taepyo; "can I kiss you?"

“Can I kiss you?” Jihoon growls in Taeil’s ear.

Instantly, Taeil turns around and smacks Jihoon on the shoulder, a fake smile plastered on his face. “What the fuck are you doing?” He hisses through gritted teeth. “How many times have I told you ‘not in public’?”

Jihoon sidles into him, slinging his arm around the shoulders and waving to the crowd, speaking without his lips moving. “I don’t care.”

Taeil looks up at the younger man and fakes laughter. “Yeah, well, I do. There are rumours on the internet already, I don’t need you fueling them.”

Jihoon looks down at him, his eyes scrunched up, and laughs back. “Have you been reading fanfiction again?”

Taeil reddens. Fuck. He looks back to the crowd and keeps waving, and then looks over and sees Jiho, who is staring deliberately at Jihoon’s arm around his shoulders. It’s a warning.

“Well? Have you?”

He doesn’t answer, doesn’t have to - Jihoon knows him so well that the reddening of his face is enough. He’s just driving the point home.

With one last squeeze of his shoulder, Jihoon winks, and slides away, the wink a promise of what’s to come.

Later, though. Right now he has priorities.


	5. zikyung; "How long has it been?"

“How long has it been?” Jiho asks, casually, reaching over to grab the wooden spoon.

“Two years, six months and three days.” Kyung replies instantly, turning to face the younger man. “Why?”

Jiho is staring at Kyung, desperately trying to hold back his laughter. He knows how long it’s been since _that night_ (not that he would _ever_ admit it to Kyung; he likes pretending to be the blasé one), the night that he will never forget.

“I… I meant how long has the water been boiling.” He says, laughter bubbling up his chest and overflowing, spilling out and filling the room with his peals. “Jesus, Kyung!”

For a moment, he thinks Kyung is going to smack him. But then the shorter man’s face clears and he’s laughing too, both of them holding onto each other so they don’t collapse on the floor in a puddle.

“Sorry, jagiya. I thought you meant how long it had been since – well, _you_ know.” Kyung smiles, turning back to the stove.

Jiho slides his arms around Kyung’s waist and hugs him from behind, nestling his head into the crook of Kyung’s shoulder, feeling the other man breathe underneath him. “How could I ever forget?” He breathes.

How _could_ he forget the night they had confessed their love – cheesy as it sounds – and gingerly started a relationship? It was the best moment of his life, better even than Block B winning for the first time, though he will never admit that to anyone.

He closes his eyes and just takes in the sensation of Kyung.


	6. zikyung; "You know, it's okay to cry."

“You know, it’s okay to cry.” Kyung throws over his shoulder as he turns. “ I know I’m just that beautiful.”

Jiho snorts, about to fall off the bed. They’re drunk, absolutely shitfaced, and for no reason at all, they decided to break into Taeil’s room and go through his clothes. Right now, of course, it seems like a great idea, but in his head he knows he’s going to get the shit beaten out of him when Taeil gets home. Oh well.

Kyung is wearing one of Taeil’s numerous stupid oversized hats, and he has pinched a pair of his glasses, too. The effect is ridiculous; unlike Taeil, who actually pulls off the look well (okay… decently), Kyung just looks like a child in his mother’s clothing.

He sashays closer to the bed, hips swinging deliciously to music only he can hear, but Jiho doesn’t care because when Kyung moves like that, lithe and graceful in a way that only alcohol can allow, it gets him hard. Especially when Kyung comes and sits on his lap, like now, glasses falling down his face, hat tilted stupidly at an angle.

Jiho swallows, but his throat is all dry, because Kyung is looking at him the way he does, _fuck_ Jiho loves him, he loves him, he loves him, he loves him.

They’re kissing now, the glasses falling onto his face. He reaches up, feels for them, rips them away, and falls hungrily onto Kyung’s shoulder, biting and nibbling. Kyung pushes him back down on the bed and rips his shirt off, tugs Jiho’s off too, palms Jiho’s cock through his pants, gasping and writhing as Jiho does the same.

They’re not saying anything, just making breathy little noises in each other’s faces, as they sometimes do, but Jiho doesn’t care because he knows how Kyung feels about him and right now he doesn’t need to be reassured. It’s all in the way Kyung touches him, _strokes_ him, moans wordlessly for him.

A lonely thought flits through his mind – _wait, isn’t this Taeil hyung’s room?_ – and, as if God was looking down on him, poking through his mind, the door flings open and standing in the doorway, surrounded by a halo of light, is Taeil.

Taeil hyung. And this is his bed. And they’re having sex on his bed.

He doesn’t even have time to think about the beating he’s going to get; he shoves Kyung off him, fixes his pants in one fluid motion and runs, surprisingly quick and coordinated for being so drunk, shoving past Taeil and sprinting down the hallway, Kyung’s laughter and Taeil’s angry, indignant yells following him.


	7. zikyung; "How long has it been?" (again)

“How long has it been?” Kyung asks sadly.

Jiho spins around, his heart racing out of his chest as he sees Kyung standing in the doorway of his room in the dorm, looking melancholy.

Anxiety worms its way up through his gut and settles itself around his neck, squeezing tighter and tighter. “What do you mean?”

Kyung steps in and closes the door behind him, the ‘thud’ sounding so damn final. The snake squeezes harder. “Don’t play dumb, Jiho. How long has it been?”

He turns back to his desk and sees his hand shaking, tries to still it. God damn, Kyung just will not let this go, no matter what he does. He closes his eyes, briefly, tries to relax. It’s just Kyung, after all.

“It’s been ages, Kyung, and you need to move on.” He hums, ignoring his trembling hand.

“That’s the thing.” Kyung says, wistfully. “I can’t.”

The snake is crushing his airways now, or at least he thinks it is; maybe it’s Kyung making the world turn upside-down and all the air to vanish. “I can’t do it. You know I can’t be with you like that. I’m sorry.”

“You’re always sorry.” Kyung whispers, whirls, and disappears.


	8. zipyo; "Can I kiss you?"

“Can I kiss you, hyung?” Jihoon asks, giggling.

Jiho roars with laughter. He loves being drunk, loves the fluidness it gives his limbs and the way it removes any inhibitions he may have. It’s obviously done the same to Jihoon, because he’s never asked to kiss Jiho before.

But as he’s laughing, Jihoon isn’t laughing back. In fact, he’s standing very still, mouth twisting downward. As Jiho’s laugh trails off, he realises that Jihoon was being _serious_.

They’re in some dingy alleyway, having stumbled through it because Jiho needed to take a piss. He had just finished up when Jihoon had sprung the question on him. The others wouldn’t be far behind.

“What the fuck, Jihoon? I’m not gay.” He slurs, eyes narrowed.

“What? Neither am I. I just wanted to try it. See what it’s like.” The maknae shrugs. “There’s always so much fanfiction on the internet.”

Jiho rolls his eyes. “How many times have Taeil hyung and I told you to stay away from the damn internet? And this is why! You get stupid ideas like this.”

“So can I?” He asks, eyes wide now.

It’s some crappy alleyway in Hongdae, and there could be fans around the corner, waiting to pounce, but the little niggling part of his brain that asks ‘haven’t you always wanted to try it too?’ takes over and he nods, watching Jihoon step closer.

The younger man slides a hand around to the small of Jiho’s back and pulls him flush against his chest. Jiho can’t help but gasp – even with the alcohol numbing everything, the feeling of being so damn close to Jihoon, bodies touching in places they’ve never touched before, is strangely erotic.

Jihoon’s head dips towards his and he leans forward and then all of a sudden they’re kissing. His first instinct is to shove Jihoon away because he feels – and smells – so different to a woman: more angular, sharp. Not that he dislikes it, he realises, as he kisses Jihoon back, his own hand sliding around to grasp the back of the maknae’s shirt. In fact, he rather enjoys it.

Their mouths open and their tongues touch and, again, his first instinct is disgust but it’s quickly replaced by pleasure. It’s such an odd sensation – this is the man he’s watched grow up, the man he has helped train – but it feels so damn _right_.


	9. zikwon; "I'm flirting with you."

“I’m flirting with you.” Yukwon purrs, trailing a hand down Jiho’s chest.

“Oh, are you?” Jiho murmurs, his eyebrow raising. “And why would that be?”

“Because,” Yukwon throws over his shoulder as he tugs Jiho into his apartment, “you look so damn good in that suit.”

Jiho adjusts his collar uncomfortably. A life spent in baggy ‘hip hop’ clothes has made him ill-suited to tight-fitting suits, a fact he is reminded of every time he has to wear one. This time, it was for a photoshoot, and he hadn’t bothered to get changed before heading over to Yukwon’s.

Before he can think anymore about suits, Yukwon backs him up against the wall and kisses him hungrily, peeling off the jacket and throwing it away carelessly. 

“Mmm… The coordi noonas are going to kill me for getting that jacket all rumpled.” He grumbles, but is quickly shut up by Yukwon’s mouth on his. 

“Hey, enough. I don’t wanna know about Zico’s troubles. I want Jiho, right here, right now.” Yukwon purrs against his neck, deft fingers making short work of shirt buttons. 

“Fair enough.” Jiho says, reaching for Yukwon, fingers longing to touch.


	10. taepyo; "You don't need to protect me."

“You don’t need to protect me.” Jihoon quips. “I’m not a child.”

“Yeah, okay, I know you’re not a child, but that doesn’t mean I want you seeing that shit.” Taeil remarked, slamming the laptop shut and putting it on the coffee table.

Jihoon raises an eyebrow and smirks. “Why? Afraid I’ll get… Ideas?”

He almost moans the last word and it takes all of Taeil’s strength not to lean over and kiss him but by some herculean effort he steels himself and shakes his head instead. “No, because I think you’re a little young to be watching gay porn, okay? Some of that stuff is intense.”

Jihoon’s chest starts puffing up – he absolutely despises it when Taeil pulls the age card on him – and to silence him he relents, knowing that if he doesn’t, Jihoon will never let him forget it.

“Okay! Okay. But I get to pick it, alright?” He says, cutting Jihoon off.

Jihoon smiles, and Taeil hums quietly to himself. He will never be able to get over the way that, when Jihoon smiles, it lights up the room. His smiles are contagious, and best of all, they’re for him.

He reaches for the laptop again, wondering if he’s about to make a grave mistake and that maybe one day he’ll find Jihoon at home with handcuffs and strawberry flavoured lube.

He shrugs and starts typing, feels Jihoon snuggle closer into him. What’s the worst that could happen?


	11. taepyo; "Come home with me."

“Come home with me.” Taeil whines, the beer in his hand empty now. “This gig sucks.”

Jihoon whips his head around to see if anyone was listening and claps his hand over Taeil’s mouth, eyes wide in alarm. “Hyung! You can’t say that! We’re at Jiho hyung’s gig!”

Taeil wraps his fingers around Jihoon’s wrist and peels his hand away delicately. “I know, but it’s boring, you know I don’t know anything about rap. Why did he ask _us_ anyway? Why not the others?”

Jihoon blushes at that, the redness creeping its way up from his collar to spread across his face – a telltale sign Jiho has said something to him. Taeil’s eyes are like a hawk, and even in the darkness, he spies the blushing. “What? What’s going on, Jihoonie?”

“He… Ah, don’t worry. Come on, we can’t go home yet, he will absolutely murder us if we try to.” Jihoon stammers, eyes darting about the room.

“No. We aren’t moving from this spot until you tell me what’s going on.” Taeil warns, grabbing Jihoon’s wrist again. “Why did Jiho only invite us?”

Jihoon looks down at the ground and shuffles his feet. Taeil has to strain to hear him over the noise of Jiho in the background. “He… He asked me to bring you so it could be a date. Between the two of us.”

Taeil blinks, taken aback. Jihoon is peering carefully at his face now, to gauge his reaction. He probably see the cogs turning in Taeil’s head as he processes this information.

Taeil smiles suddenly, laces his fingers with Jihoon’s, and laughs. “What an idiot. Of all the places to go on a date, why would it be to his concert? How dull.” He tugs Jihoon towards the door. “Come on, let’s go somewhere more fun, and have a _proper_ date.”

He doesn’t have to look back to see the smile on Jihoon’s face – he can feel it from here.


	12. zikwon; "You know, it's okay to cry."

_You know, it’s okay to cry._

That’s exactly what he’s doing now, he thinks, bitterly, as tears fall down his face and onto the paper he’s holding with shaking hands, staining the page and making the ink run.

_Dear Jiho,_

_You know, it’s okay to cry. You’ve been strong for too long, you need to learn to let it out, too. I love you, Jiho, you know I do; but I can’t be with you when you bottle things up. You scare me, sometimes, Jiho, but I love you anyway._

_Let’s fix this._

_Yukwon._

He scrunches up the piece of paper involuntarily; it’s a side-effect of his body crumpling at the waist as he folds inward. The worst part of this note, that he had found on his bed in his apartment, is that Yukwon’s right. He’s been awful lately, so stressed and anxious that he snaps at the slightest antagonisation.

He straightens up, still crying a little bit, and grabs his car keys, ready to fix this.


	13. taepyo; "I just want this."

“I just want this.” Jihoon moans against Taeil’s neck. “I want _you_.”

Taeil is being overcome with sensations, coming hard and fast, so that he can barely think. Jihoon’s hand wrapped around his thigh; the feel of the maknae’s breath against his neck; the way his hand tugs a lock of Taeil’s hair. But doubt worms its way through his gut, making him heave as he shoves Jihoon away.

“No, Jihoon, you don’t want this. You’ll wake up tomorrow and regret it.” He says, trying to keep his hands shaking.

Jihoon steps closer, shaking his head, his eyes shining. “I never regret anything. If I wanted to do something in a particular moment, why would I regret it?” He pulls Taeil close, his big hand on the small of Taeil’s back. “Touch me, hyung.”

He almost moans the last part and Taeil feels himself reaching for Jihoon, feels their lips touch, and feels himself giving in.


	14. bkyung; "I just want this"

“I just want this.” Kyung sighs, the words barely making a mark in the air in his stale dorm room.

“Then go for it.” Jiho opines, sticking his head in through Kyung’s open door.

“Fucking – Jiho, how many times have I told you to stay out of my room?” Kyung shouts, unfolding from the floor and slamming the damn door in Jiho’s face. Their leader has a nasty habit of eavesdropping on conversations – fortunately for him, the dorm’s walls are incredibly thin, so he can hear everything – and likes to lord it over the others.

While the intrusion was unnecessary, the advice was sound, and as Kyung flops back down onto the floor and starts picking at a thread in the carpet, his chin cupping his hand as he pouts, he thinks Jiho may have a point. Maybe he _should_ go for it.

//

Except now that he _is_ going for it, he wants to turn around and march back to the elevator from whence he came, catch a cab home and pretend this stupid little excursion didn’t exist.

He pulls a flask out from his back pocket – even if Minhyuk can disarm him with a look, a little bit of vodka is always there for him – and takes a swig. They don’t call it liquid courage for nothing.

The doorbell rings throughout the apartment as his finger presses the button for perhaps a bit longer than was necessary. He hears footsteps approaching on the other side – good, he’s home, it would be rather embarrassing if he was out – and steels himself, taking a deep breath like Jiho taught him all those years ago (’Kyungie, relax, it’s just the stage, you gotta get out there and own it, but first take a deep breath’). And he’s still guiding him.

The door swings open and it’s pretty clear that Minhyuk was not expecting company because he’s shirtless and if Minhyuk just looking at him can quell his sharp tongue, the sight in front of his eyes has simply made any logic shrivel up and die. He can do nothing but stare.

“Kyung? Did… did you need something?” Minhyuk asks hesitantly, obviously confused as to why Kyung is standing at his door, all dressed up, and staring at his chest.

“We should fuck.” Kyung blurts.

He sees Minhyuk’s eyes open wide – _did I say fuck? I meant date, oh god, oh shit_ – and wishes the ground would open up and swallow him whole. He shuts his eyes and swallows, taking another deep breath.

“I… We should date. I mean. If you want to. Not fuck. Although I do want that too, but you know, I think we should date first.” He muddles through his words, shoving his foot even farther in his mouth as he prepares himself to run back to the dorm, tail tucked between his legs, never able to look Minhyuk in the eye again.

Most of all, he wants to reach back into his pocket and swallow the whole damn flask of liquor and go back for more.

He feels Minhyuk’s hand cup his cheek and his eyes snap open. He was expecting a slap, maybe, or a verbal reprimand, but instead Minhyuk’s fingers are making minute movements – wait – _is he caressing my face?_ – and his eyes are soft, his dimple showing delicately in his cheek.

“I’d like that very much.” He says, softly, now _definitely_ caressing Kyung’s cheek. “Now, are you going to share some of that vodka?”

Kyung’s own hand reaches up to cover Minhyuk’s, and he’s sure they look absurd, but he doesn’t care. “How did you know?”

“You like to think you can pull the wool over my eyes, Kyung, but I know more about you than I think you do. Now, come on. I say we have our first date right here and now.” Minhyuk says, chuckling, grabbing Kyung’s wrist and pulling him into the apartment.


	15. taepyo; "This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course I’m in."

“No.” Taeil says, staring at the car dubiously. 

Jihoon bounces around in front of him, his eyebrows drawn together, pleading. “Hyung, please? I know Jiho will appreciate it. It’s just a short drive.”

Taeil gently shoulders the maknae aside to once again stare at the car. The beautiful, practically brand-new Mercedes C-Class, that he’d bought for himself. As a ‘present’. Despite not having a license. The very same beautiful car that he’s now covered in posters and written all over, the bright pink posters for Her contrasting starkly against the black gloss paint.

“Remind me again why you’ve dragged me into this?” Taeil growls, shaking his head. He’s not a car junkie, but he knows a nice piece of machinery when he sees it, and to scribble all over it seems… taboo.

Jihoon steps closer to him, looking down at him, smirking as he pulls the older man closer and trails soft kisses down his neck. “Because I’ll make it worth your while.” He whispers, and Taeil shivers. “Also, because I still don’t have my license.”

Taeil shoves the older man away, laughing. “I’m a sucker for you, Pyo Jihoon.”

Jihoon smiles and runs his hand through his hair. “Yeah, well, you’re just a pushover.”

Taeil glances at the car again. “You know, this is, without a doubt, the most catastrophically stupid idea I think you’ve ever come up with.”

Jihoon grins, his eyes scrunching up, and Taeil has to stop himself from reaching over and pinching his cheeks. “But hyung, are you in?”

Taeil rolls his eyes. “Of course I’m in.”

So that’s how he finds himself driving around the busy streets of Seoul, in Jihoon’s Merc, with Block B posters affixed to it, and “Buy Her on iTunes” written all over it. Even when one of the posters flies off and sticks to the windshield of the car behind them, causing a minor accident, he doesn’t really mind. He’d do anything for Jihoon, and the maknae knows it.


	16. taepyo; “The paint’s supposed to go where?”

“The paint’s supposed to go _where_?”

“On your _body_ , hyung, it’s body paint. It says it in the name.” Jihoon whines. “Come on, it’s getting cold!”

Taeil flops back onto the bed. “Okay, Jihoon, when you said come over for a movie and some pizza, I didn’t think you meant using _me_ as the pizza.”

Jihoon crawls over the top of him and, without warning, takes Taeil’s nipple into his mouth. Taeil arches his back and hisses as Jihoon’s tongue swirls around and around, as his hand skips down Taeil’s bellybutton, down to curl around Taeil’s cock and give a slow, toe-curling caress.

“Jihoon - fuck - you don’t fuck around, do you.” Taeil stutters, his voice fading in and out as he gasps for air, Jihoon’s hand sending shivers up his spine.

“May I?” Jihoon asks, looking up from Taeil’s nipple, in his hand now the jar of chocolate body paint. “It’ll be hot, though.” He warns.

Taeil nods and watches as Jihoon dips his fingers into the chocolate, the image of it rolling down his fingers reminiscent of something else, and hisses as the burning-hot chocolate hits his skin, sending sparks straight down to his cock. He throws his head back and whines, trying not to cry out. _Fuck_.


	17. taepyo; “Have you seen the – Oh.”

“Hyung?” Jihoon asks, rounding the corner into Taeil’s room. “Have you seen the – _Oh_.”

Taeil is standing in his room, wearing nothing but socks and pyjama shorts, and the expanse of flesh is too much for Jihoon to handle and he’s trapped, staring at the way Taeil’s muscles bunch as he reaches for a t-shirt, staring at the way the owl on Taeil’s chest flashes.

“Jihoon. How many times have I asked you to please knock?” Taeil grumbles, pulling the shirt over his head and tugging it down consciously.

Jihoon’s mouth is dry and he can’t think, can’t even _look_ at Taeil. “Um… Have you seen the remote for the TV?” He asks, weakly, unable to get the image of Taeil’s chest out of his mind –

_–the way Taeil’s chest would look pressed up against him, the way it would feel to run his fingers down the crests and valleys of his muscles, the way he would be so hot to touch Jihoon can already feel his fingers burning –_

Before Taeil can respond, he turns and runs, his face flushing.


	18. zikwon; “I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.”

Jiho takes a step closer to Yukwon, his hand reaching out, fingers curling in the air.

“Yukwon, please.” He chokes, and the sight of him holding back his tears is almost too damn much to bear, and Yukwon has to bite his lip, hard. “I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.”

Jiho grasps onto him now, fingers curling around his bicep, and the touch sparks something in him, brings forth everything he was trying to suppress – _Jiho’s mouth on his, tongue insistent, hungry, like he’s been waiting for Yukwon; Jiho’s hand, skittering down his chest to cup him there; Jiho’s eyes, the way he watched Yukwon cum with those damn eyes, whispering to him ‘you’re mine now’._ – and it hits him like a sledgehammer to the chest and he steps back, eyes pooling with tears.

“Don’t.” He gasps out, watches as Jiho’s hand falls to his side. If he doesn’t look Jiho in the face, doesn’t look in those damn eyes, maybe he can make it through this unscathed.

“Hyung. You don’t.” Jiho snarls, reaching out and grabbing Yukwon by the chin and forcing him to look up, look into his eyes – _he always knew what I was thinking_ – where the fury and rage there is so shocking Yukwon forgets to _breathe_.

“You’re scared.” Jiho states, his eyes widening slightly, eyelashes fanning the air. “I know that. But we can do this, hyung, we can do this together.”

Slowly, gently, Yukwon’s hand comes up to cover Jiho’s. For one brief, happy moment he allows himself to revel in the younger man’s touch. It’s so hard to pull away, but he does, backing away slowly, letting their hands drop.

“We can’t.” He says, and walks away.


	19. bkyung; “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”

Minhyuk’s leaning in his doorway, trying to be casual about it and utterly failing. Kyung can always tell when the older man wants to say something; he does this _thing_ with his hands, always fiddling.

“What?” Kyung asks, dropping his hair straightener on his desk with a clatter, fed up with waiting.

Minhyuk looks back at him, cooly, _calmly_ , but Kyung’s instantly nervous because Minhyuk’s never looked at him before and it hits him at once - _he knows_.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.” Minhyuk says, evenly.

Kyung’s heart stops. This was a stupid crush, Minhyuk was never meant to find out, _damn_ it, he should have betted on his hyung being more perceptive than Kyung gives him credit for; he’s always watching. Watching Kyung watching him, apparently.

He plays it off with a laugh. “Yeah, I need to get better in my dancing, and what do they say? Learn via osmosis and all that…”

It’s not exactly convincing, and when Minhyuk steps closer and grasps him under the chin, the touch so aggressive and him so unprepared for it he nearly stops breathing.

They stare at each other for a moment, Minhyuk’s hand cool on his chin, his gaze burning straight into Kyung’s eyes, and then he is gone, leaving Kyung confused, miserable, and hard.


	20. taepyo; “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

“Please don’t touch Jiho like that again.” Jihoon whispers.

The moment the words are out of his mouth he could _kick_ himself. He shouldn’t have said that, he _really_ shouldn’t have said that, but he has and now he has to deal with the consequences, which are –

Taeil whirls around, mouth agape. “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?” He asks, eyebrow raised.

Jihoon closes his eyes. If he’s being honest to himself, yes, yes he _is_ jealous of the way Jiho fawns all over Taeil on stage, and the way Taeil lets it – no, _enjoys_ it – even reciprocates sometimes. But if he admits that, he’ll seem controlling, and that’s not someone he wants to be.

“No, I just… it makes me a little uncomfortable, is all.” He murmurs, opening his eyes and jumping as he realises Taeil is right in front of him now.

“Really?” Taeil purrs, sliding an arm around Jihoon’s hips and yanking him forward, “because it sounds like jealousy to me.”

“Mmmm.” Jihoon groans as Taeil, standing on tippy-toes as he always has to, kisses his neck. “Maybe a little bit.”

Taeil chuckles throatily, and then bites – just a little nip, but it’s enough to get Jihoon’s endorphins racing, and he slides a hand down to Taeil’s ass. “Yeah, Jihoonie? Because it sounds like more than a little bit to me…”

Jihoon buries his head in the crook of Taeil’s neck and moans. Taeil knows how to pull his strings, he has him dancing like a puppet, but he doesn’t _really_ mind – in fact, as the older man dips his hand below Jihoon’s belt, he realises he doesn’t mind at all.

“You’re mine.” Taeil breathes. “Not Jiho, not anyone is going to come between us.”


	21. zikwon; “Come over here and make me.”

“Come over here and make me.” Jiho purrs.

“Sorry, Jiho, I’m really busy.” Yukwon replies into the phone. He’s not exactly lying, either - he _is_ really busy. Really busy watching TV in the dorm.

“No, literally. Come over here and _make_ me. The previews for the HER paper dolls have arrived, they’re really fun! Please come over.” Jiho begs.

Yukwon pulls the phone away from his ear and just stares at it for a moment. “You mean you _weren’t_ being sexy? You literally meant make you? A paper doll version of you? Jesus Christ, Jiho!”

Jiho sighs. “Okay. Fine. I’ll give you a blowjob. Just get your ass over here. They’re really cute.”

Yukwon rolls his eyes and hauls himself up from the lounge. “You’re charming, Woo Jiho.”

He can hear Jiho’s smile just from the way he talks. “Yeah, but you love me. See you in twenty.”


	22. taepyo; “You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

“What the fuck?” Jihoon wails, before rolling over and groaning into the ground.

He’s utterly confused. His head hurts, he feels nauseous, like he’s about to throw up, and Taeil is standing over him, laughing brutally. He feels like he’s swimming through cotton wool as he sits up, slowly, hand clutched to his stomach as it roils.

“Why am I on the floor?” He mutters, head hanging between his knees, trying to breathe slowly.

“You fainted.” Taeil deadpans, smirking. “You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

“I don’t… I mean… what?” Jihoon tries to breathe in and out. “Where am I?”

Taeil reaches down and offers a hand. “The dorm. You passed out right in front of me. It was very dramatic.”

“The… dorm?” Jihoon looks around, and sure enough, he’s on the hallway in the Stardom dorm. “Where’s Minho? And Jiho?”

Taeil hauls him to his feet and begins leading him down the hall to his room. “I don’t know. Out. Anyway, what the hell is wrong with you? I’ve only been here two days and you’re already keeling over in front of me, am I really that handsome?”

Jihoon laughs, but winces as another wave of nausea rolls over him. “Yeah. Something like that.” He replies, weakly.


	23. taepyo; "thanks for the memories"

The end.

He knows it has been coming for a while now – once he’d noticed the signs it was impossible to stop. Jiho, spending more and more time on his new record label. Jaehyo, rising up the ranks of League of Legends. Yukwon, focusing on his acting career.

Still, he ignores it. Shuts himself away from the signs and the warnings that are flashing all around him, the signs that scream _this is the end, you’ve had 11 good years, don’t fight it_ – instead he continues doing what he always did, and that is plow forward with a smile, even as tensions stretch thin and everyone grows further apart.

Perhaps he doesn’t want to leave this life because of the group as a whole. More likely, though, it is because of Taeil – the comfortable, domestic relationship they’d started when they moved out of the dorm into an apartment together (innocent at first, until Jihoon had had nightmares, crawled into Taeil’s bed, and didn’t ever leave) had become like _breathing_ to him now and he doesn’t want it to change, ever. The way Taeil looks at him when he comes home after a long day, the way he rolls his eyes when Jihoon gets too lovey-dovey… the thought of losing all that makes him shudder.

Still, he knows the inevitable is coming, and as much as he dreads it – he’s fallen more in love with Taeil every single day – he at least has the memories of everything they’ve done together, both as a seven and as a two, memories that he will carry with him wherever he goes, no matter what is coming next.


	24. taepyo; "by the way"

“By the way, I think I should move into your apartment.” Taeil states, matter-of-factly, when they’re snuggled up in bed.

Jihoon jumps, the sound of Taeil’s voice bringing him out of that dreamworld he always drifts into after sex, and back into the here and now; the older man, clinging onto him – leg wrapped around his, arm draped possessively on his waist – speaking, his voice slightly wobbly. 

“Huh?” Jihoon asks. “In here? Why would you ever want to do that?”

Jihoon’s apartment is most certainly a bachelor pad, although he lacks the corresponding bachelor status at the moment. After Jiho had left the dorm, the others did too, all sort of spreading out. They occasionally moved back in for promotions, but for the most part, this tiny apartment was home for Jihoon.

Not that Taeil is unwelcome. As he feel the older man’s arm clench involuntarily, obviously nervous that he’s about to get shot down, he plants a kiss on the top of his head and smiles into Taeil’s hair.

“I would love that.”


	25. zikwon; "lose yourself"

The door to Yukwon’s apartment slams open.

Before he can even heave himself off the couch to see who it is, Jiho is there, a flurry of limbs and sweat, leaping onto Yukwon and kissing him furiously, hands moving quickly over Yukwon’s body.

“Jiho –” Yukwon manages to gasp out, hands coming up to twine in Jiho’s hair, using this leverage to pull the younger man’s face away for a second. “Jiho.”

But Jiho’s eyes are dark and heavy-lidded, his gaze a mixture of lust and rage – a curious combination that spells danger – so he lets his hand slip down to rest on Jiho’s back, nails digging in gently as Jiho nips at his neck. 

“What’s wrong?” He murmurs, staring at the ceiling as Jiho’s hands fumble at his belt.

Jiho growls, the words buzzing against his throat and filling him up. “Fucking – Kyung didn’t show up for recording today. It messed up my whole schedule. Everything went wrong. I just need to –”

Yukwon cradles Jiho’s face with his hands, pulling the older man close in a gentle kiss. “Need to?”

Jiho snarls and grabs blindly at Yukwon, hands searching for purchase and finding it at the older man’s hips, yanking him down on the couch a little bit. “I need _you_. Now.”


	26. ubomb; "safe and sound"

Minhyuk’s phone buzzes in his hand, jolting him awake.

Blearily, he rubs his eyes, realising he’s fallen asleep on the couch _again_. He looks at the phone and sees it’s Yukwon calling him, before he registers the time: Why is Yukwon calling him at 4 in the morning? Has he really been sleeping that long? Why isn’t Yukwon here – he was meant to arrive at ten?

He answers the phone and puts it to his ear and before he can even get the first syllable of “hello?” out of his mouth, he’s greeted by the sounds of sirens, blaring down the phone line.

He jumps. “Yukwon? Are you there?”

Yukwon sounds small when he speaks, like something has made him curl up inside. “Minhyuk? Hyung?”

He hauls himself up to a sitting position, heart beginning to race. Something is very, very wrong – he’s never heard Yukwon sound like this. “What’s wrong?”

Yukwon sighs down the phone line. “Can you come and get me please?”

* * *

 

He probably ran several red lights getting here, but as he pulls over and sees what remains of Yukwon’s car, his thoughts about tickets evaporate. Damn, Yukwon was lucky to not be _killed_.

He gets out and looks around, heart in his mouth, desperate to find Yukwon, to see with his own eyes that he’s alright – and spies him, talking to a police officer.

There’s witnesses around, so he can’t be too forward, but he folds the younger man into his arms anyway: a hug could be construed as innocent (although the way Yukwon is burying his face in Minhyuk’s shoulder, and clinging onto his waist, is pushing it a little bit). He closes his eyes and relishes the feeling of Yukwon in his arms: solid, strong, _alive_.

“You’re safe now.” He whispers carefully into Yukwon’s ear, hand rubbing little circles into the small of his back.

_I won’t let anything happen to you._


	27. taepyo; "paradise"

Sunlight filters through the blinds, hitting the dust in the air and making it almost sparkle.

It’s always the early mornings that make Jihoon a little bit pensive and dreamy; mornings like this, especially, when he can see the dust particles dancing in the wind. It doesn’t hurt, of course, that Taeil is curled up against his side – the older man is more beautiful than sunlight could ever be.

He looks down at him, sleeping peacefully, one hand tucked up under his chin, the other slung possessively across Jihoon’s waist, a content smile on his face. In his sleep, he snuffles and shuffles closer, such a contrast to the curt, sometimes standoffish way he treats Jihoon in public.

Jihoon slides down and rolls away, so Taeil is pressed up against his back; the older man automatically draws him in closer, arm tight, not letting him get away.

As he watches the dust dance, as he hears Taeil’s rhythmic, slow breathing, as he feels the older man’s arm around his waist tighten and then loosen, he knows – this is truly paradise.


	28. taepyo; "lose yourself"

There’s nothing like the way Jihoon moans, arching against him, begging wordlessly for more.

Nothing like the way, with a twist of his wrist, Taeil can leave Jihoon breathless and incoherent, gasping nonsense, hands gripping Taeil’s hips furiously. Taeil knows Jihoon now – how long have they been doing this? – and can tell when the younger man is close, and he’s close now.

The kitchen is dark at night, and he’s backed Jihoon against a counter, but that doesn’t matter – the only thing that matters right now is Jihoon, and as Taeil strokes faster, sees Jihoon’s eyes roll back in his head as he goes to that other place – head snapping back, mouth stretched wide, fingers clenching – he knows he has done his job well.


	29. taepyo; "Wake me up"

As always, he feels like he’s dreaming. 

If he’s telling himself the truth, though, it would be _better_ if he was dreaming; at least then he could wake up and be shocked back to reality. But no, this _is_  his reality, the one he can never wake from: the way he’s constantly sucked into Taeil’s orbit, always wanting more but never _getting_  more, just taking what he can and surviving on scraps.

“Jihoon,” Taeil rumbles against his neck, his hands slipping underneath Jihoon’s shirt, palming at his belly. “God.”

Jihoon responds automatically; it’s practically a pavlovian response, now, like he’s been trained to react to Taeil… But then again, no one touches him like Taeil does, no one makes him fall apart in quite the same way. So Jihoon dips his head to kiss him, his hands fisting in Taeil’s hair, trying to get more, trying to elicit feelings that aren’t there. 

“Hyung,” he groans as Taeil’s hand flit down his belly, teasing, always teasing. “Please.”

Taeil hears the double meaning in his words ( _please touch me_  and  _please love me_ ) but doesn’t listen, he never listens, and reaches for Jihoon, ignoring.


	30. taepyo; "Anything could happen"

Taeil spends the first night in his new dorm not getting a wink of sleep, staring at the ceiling as the four others in the room snore away happily. He wishes he’d joined the army instead.

On the second night, as he crawls up the ladder somewhat dejectedly – he’d barely spoken a word to anyone all day – he notices Jihoon watching him go, his eyes worried, and wonders what that’s about.

On the third night, Jihoon watches him crawl up the ladder and opens his mouth to say something – but when Taeil looks back down at him, questioning, he shuts it again and slumps down into bed, pulling the blankets over his head.

The fourth night comes and goes and, as per usual, he only gets around two hours sleep – he’s just not used to this place yet, not used to these strangers who call him  _hyung_  and look at him hopefully. So when he gets up to use the bathroom at around five and notices Jihoon awake _,_ he clicks his tongue gently. “Go to sleep, Jihoon,” he whispers into the dark, watching as Jihoon rolls over and does as he’s told.

On the fifth night he’s awoken by Jihoon crawling into bed with him, and he sits bolt upright and bangs his head on the ceiling before remembering _(how many times is he going to do that?)_  and lying back down again. “What the fuck are you doing here?” he hisses into the darkness, hyper-aware the others could wake up at any moment.

“You’re not sleeping enough,” Jihoon murmurs back, squishing himself into the corner so Taeil can have his bed back, but reaching down to curl his hand in Taeil’s. “Maybe this will help.”

Taeil opens his mouth to protest – since when did having an overgrown teenager in your bed help _anyone_  sleep? – but Jihoon squeezes his hand and his stomach does a funny little flip, so he bites his tongue and laces their fingers, stroking his thumb across Jihoon’s hand lightly, and feels slightly giddy.

The sixth night – well. The sixth night is different, because the rest have all been giving him funny looks all day (nudging each other and raising their eyebrows) so he’s not even surprised to see Jihoon lying in bed when he heaves himself up the ladder. 

“Hello,” Taeil says a little shyly, taking Jihoon’s hand and crawling into bed, somehow feeling like this is a new beginning.


	31. taepyo; "Safe and sound"

They hadn’t seen it coming.

There’d been rumours, of course, but those kinds of rumours had plagued them since the lawsuit: _Zico’s too talented to stay with them… He’ll leave_.

And he did.

When the news came – not from Jiho himself, but from SeSea, which made it sting all the more – they were all catatonic, staring into space like they were shell-shocked, which, in a way, they were. Jiho was the glue that held them all together; he was more than just their leader in that sense, and they know the consequences of his decision.

It’s how Taeil finds himself doing lap after lap after lap of the dorm, ending up in front of Jihoon’s door, unsure what he’s doing there but turning the handle regardless – because he’s always gravitating towards Jihoon somewhat helplessly, isn’t he? That doesn’t change when he sees Jihoon curled up in a ball on the bed; he knows instantly that this is worse than Thailand, worse than the lawsuit, worse than all those times their name had come up in the media for all the wrong reasons. Because Jihoon isn’t crying, and he isn’t railing against the world; he’s quiet and very, very, still, and it’s all Taeil can do to creep closer and fold Jihoon into his arms, stroking his hair and whispering sweet nothings.

“Hyung,” Jihoon moans into his shirt, clutching onto him desperately. “What are we going to do now?”

Taeil doesn’t have the answers, he never has – even though he’s the eldest, that was always Jiho’s department, and now he’s gone they’re cut loose, floating, adrift. So Taeil puts two fingers under Jihoon’s chin and tilts his head up so he can look him in the eyes, brushing his hair back from his forehead with care, smiling sadly. “We’ll get through it. We always have.”

They both know they can’t come back from this – this is the end of them, it’s just a fact – so it’s not really a surprise when Jihoon leans up and kisses him, the taste of tears on his lips, making Taeil scrunch his eyes shut and kiss him back. The despair permeates everything; Taeil can feel it in the way Jihoon’s hand fists in his shirt, pulling him closer, gasping into his mouth. This is their first time but it feels like their last, and he can’t bring it in himself to stop  because they’re so desperate and, after all, when will they get this chance again? 

Jihoon pulls him down, and he closes his eyes and gives in, not caring anymore.


	32. ubomb; "anything could happen"

Yukwon feels most at peace when he’s dancing.

It’s silly, really, that of all the things that should make him feel most relaxed this is the one that _works –_ nothing but him and the music, moving together, his body going through the movements almost automatically; like a muscle memory that’s been carved into him. It’s why he spends so much time away from the others down at the studio, repeating the choreography over and over and over until he’s sure he has it perfect; and it’s why Minhyuk joins him one day, dumping his bag on the floor of the practice studio and stretching, muttering about having to practice more.

Even if their styles are so different – Yukwon’s more explosive, the movements ripping through him violently, himself just a slave to the beat; Minhyuk’s precise, controlled, every movement calculated, his face a blank mask as he moves – it doesn’t matter because they end up something beautiful together like this. And it’s so, so easy for Yukwon to lose himself in the music over and over again until they’re both sweaty and panting, and it’s so easy to give into the temptation that’s thrumming around them and pull Minhyuk in for a kiss. It’s hot and heated, and they gasp into each others mouths as they reach for each other, the music thrumming around them, encouraging them on. 


	33. jaebomb; "sanctuary"

“You moved out of the dorm and yet you’re here all the time,” Jaehyo mutters as he walks into his room and sees Minhyuk sitting at his desk, playing on his computer. “Get the fuck out.”

Minhyuk just turns on the swivel chair to raise an eyebrow pointedly. Jaehyo sees he’s been playing League – on Jaehyo’s own account, no less – and snorts, pulling his wallet and phone and keys out from his pockets and dumping them on the bed before sitting down heavily. “Get out,” he says again, a flash of irritation rising in his chest. He so rarely gets mad these days, but when Minhyuk sticks his nose in where it doesn’t belong, in his room (which is his sanctuary from Kyung and Taeil, these days), it annoys him.

“But I haven’t seen you in ages,” Minhyuk points out, scooting forward on the chair and snagging Jaehyo’s wrist. “I miss you.”

Jaehyo rolls his eyes but feels his resolve weakening as Minhyuk’s touch, as it always has. “You shouldn’t have moved out, then,” he replies, watching the screen as Minhyuk’s – Jaehyo’s – killed. 

Minhyuk just doesn’t say anything, just starts pressing kisses up Jaehyo’s hand, biting gently at the pale skin of his wrist before continuing upwards. He reaches the crook of Jaehyo’s elbow before getting impatient and leaning forward to kiss Jaehyo properly, and just like always Jaehyo melts at the feeling of him, his eyes fluttering shut as he reaches to pull Minhyuk closer. His irritation burns away between them as Minhyuk gently pushes him backwards on the bed – it’s so easy to forget how natural this is to them, as easy as breathing.


	34. zikyung; "safe and sound"

It’s 4 am when Kyung lets himself in the studio, driven by the absence of Jiho in his bed – it’s stupid of him, he knows, because Jiho’s apartment is really very nice, but it feels so cold and empty when he’s not there. And, of course, there’s only one place he will be, so Kyung’d thrown on a jumper and headed for his car, gravitating towards Jiho as he always does.

When he walks in, Jiho’s asleep, slumped over his computer keyboard typing an endless stream of letter ‘t’s on a twitter window, and Kyung has to wonder what he wanted to tweet out. He tips Jiho backwards in his seat and puts the computer to sleep (never shutting it down, not while he’s working – he’d learnt his lesson that time Jiho’d stopped speaking to him for a week), before gently shaking him awake.

“Come on,” he murmurs, his hand fluttering over Jiho’s neck, his cheek, his brow, drawing him out of sleep. “Come on, Jiho.”

“Fuck off,” Jiho mumbles, his eyes flickering open blearily to stare at Kyung. “Leave me be.”

“No,” Kyung replies patiently – he’s never been a patient man, but for Jiho, he’d wait for years and years – before prodding him in the ribs gently. “Come _on,_ asshole.”

He knows, as he hauls Jiho out of the chair and they walk down to his car together, that this is the most sleep Jiho’s gotten in a week, and he knows that if he keeps working like this he’s going to end up in hospital. But how can he stop him? How can _any_  of them stop him? Jiho’s like a hurricane when he’s set on his path, impossible to move and destructive in the best – all you can do is get out of his way. Kyung looks over at Jiho with undisguised affection as he drives, noting the way he passes out again almost immediately and sleeps the whole way home, only waking up when Kyung pokes him in the ribs. The moment he sees his bed he orbits towards it helplessly, collapsing into it and groaning, and Kyung just stands over him, watching him. 

When Kyung himself finally falls into bed, Jiho rolls over towards him in sleep, seeking warmth, and Kyung kisses the top of his head and sighs. It won’t do to dwell on the way that Jiho spends more time in the studio than he does outside of it, and it won’t do to dwell on the fact that he’s pale and sunken when he finally does leave – those are all worries for the light of day. All there is right now is the two of them, Jiho resting his head on Kyung’s chest and mumbling into his skin, and that’s alright for now.


End file.
